Meet the McGees
by deanmarty
Summary: Takes place after 9.03 "The Penelope Papers".  Tim's not so sure what's going to go down when his parents want to meet his NCIS family.  Everyone's involved!  pretend like everything after "Penelope Papers" never happened
1. Chapter 1

Like I would be writing fanfiction if I owned these guys.

Also, I can't remember if McGee's parents' names are ever mentioned in the show so I made them up. If they do have names, let me know and I will change it. Just apologizing in advance. Hope you enjoy!

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><p><strong>Chapter One: Welcome Home Thom E. Gemcity<strong>

"I'm surveilling my parents' house."

Tim wondered if that was crazier than talking to himself. Still, he had talked to himself in the past when he was alone. Now that he thought about it, he would talk to himself while he was surveilling. So…he thought he actually might be going a little crazy. Ah, well, it was an occupational hazard. Tim sighed as he watched his sister pull into the driveway and greet the dog as it exited the house.

Dog? Since when had his parents gotten a dog? He was sure that his mother or sister must have said something about it at one point. But whenever he was talking to them; especially his mother, he was thinking more about how he never spoke to his father than actually paying attention to what they were saying. His mother hated how they had grown apart. Tim realized that it must've hurt her a lot. He knew that he was selfish for it. He should've sucked it up a long time ago and visited for his mother's sake at least. Still, every time he thought that, he wondered why his father couldn't be the better man for a change. Could he not see how much his own wife was hurting over the rift between her son and husband?

Tim let out another sigh and put his hand on the door; for the ninth time in the thirty minutes he had been in his car across the street from his parents' house.

He still could not believe he was there. It had been seven years since he had last seen his parents. Seven years ago, Tim decided he was no longer going to stand for his father's disapproval. The easiest solution was to sever all ties; a clean break-up. From the beginning, his sister heavily disagreed. After every family holiday, she told him how difficult it was for Mom. But there was no amount of aunts and uncles and cousins that could keep them from crossing paths. So, he never went to another Thanksgiving or Christmas or Easter or Fourth of July or any other excuse for a family reunion again. He would call his mom, meet up with his sister, and then drop by Grandma Pennny's at a later date. That was his solution.

He knew that just because it was the easiest way didn't make it the right way. Hell, that was the basis of most crimes he was helping solve. Still, he steadfastly held onto it.

Every now and then, he would see a father and son together—at any age—enjoying each other's company. And there was no denying that it hurt inside to see that. He never complained, though. He had no room to on Team Gibbs. He didn't miss that recurring theme: daddy issues were the norm. It saddened him to see Ziva's relationship with Eli deteriorate so harshly. He got a warm feeling inside when he saw Gibbs and his father communicating again. It heartened him that Tony seemed to have finally gotten his father's approval. And he prayed that, in the future, he wouldn't be like Abby: realizing things about his father after it was too late.

All of those revelations had been spinning through his mind for a long time. And then, when Grandma Penny finally urged him to call his father, he was pushed over the edge. He told himself the worst that could happen was his father rejecting his attempt to reunite.

It had gone a lot smoother than he would have ever dreamed. Both Tim and his father had been timid throughout the conversation, worried that the other might be pushed into anger. Neither man wanted to be the cause of a terminated phone call. This realization comforted Tim. Seven years was a long time; too long. Perhaps his father really did care about him enough to truly miss him. Though, it irked Tm that he still had to be the one to try and cross no-man's-land.

He let out one more sigh. No need to get worked up before going inside. His father would smell it a mile away and attack it. Tim pushed open his car door and stepped out. He squinted into the high-noon sun and pulled of his jacket and tossed it back into the car. Still, stalling, he checked his phone to make sure the volume was on in case he was called in. He even locked the car door manually with his key before turning to the house.

Seconds later, he found himself on the doorstep, fist up and ready to knock. Just as he was about to let the fist fall, the door flew open.

"It's Tim!"

Tim smiled as Sarah hugged him with as much excitement as his dog Jethro did every time he came home. He returned the enthusiastic hug as he was pulled into the house. When he looked up, he saw his mother standing at the threshold of the foyer. He could see her heavy brown eyes questioning him about where she stood in this homecoming. Tim felt his heart leap at the sight of her. He could not remember the last time he was so thrilled to see his mother. But there was something about her. He suddenly remembered what it was…that look in her eyes as she gazed at him…unconditional love. It was something only a mother could give so naturally. And Tim missed it. He gently broke apart from his younger sister and took a step towards her. That was all the invitation his mother needed. She rushed forward and hugged him. Tim embraced his mother so tightly he actually picked her up off the ground. She gave a little laugh that turned into tears. She rested her head against her son's shoulder as he rubbed her back.

"Mom, don't cry," he said.

"I'm just so glad you came," she said, looking up at her son. She sniffed back her tears. "It's been too long." She kissed his cheek as she looked over his face.

"You didn't think I would come," asked Tim, with a hint of disappointment in his voice.

"Like I said," she replied. "It's been so long." She took a step back and looked him over. "Look at you. You're so grown up. Special Agent Timothy McGee."

"Mary? Mary, have you seen the leash?"

Tim froze at the sound of his father's voice.

"Dad! Tim's here!" Sarah rushed from the foyer and came back, towing her father behind her. The man stopped at the threshold of the foyer, looking from his daughter, to his wife, and finally to his son. His eyes rested briefly on Tim. And just the second that they were on him, Tim read a few different emotions in him: hesitation, stubbornness, and insecurity were the ones that shocked Tim the most though. But his father averted his eyes away too quickly for Tim to read further into it.

"Well, why are you all just standing in the doorway," he said, turning his back to them. He waved them forward as he walked off. "Come sit down. Offer the man something to eat. He looks like he hasn't eaten in a week."

Tim barely let out a frustrated sigh. His mother, Mary, lovingly linked her arm through his and led him the kitchen.

"John, where are you going off to," Mary asked of her husband as he walked into the backyard.

"Taking Riley for a walk," he called back, shutting the door behind him.

"Riley is our dog," explained Mary to Tim. She pulled out a chair for him and raised her eyebrows at him in a silent command to sit down.

But he didn't sit. He just stared out the back window, watching his father leash the dog and then away. He shook his head in mild disgust. "He hasn't seen me in seven years and that's the best he can do?"

"Honey," said Mary, placing a hand on his cheek. "You know how your father is. Just give him some time. He'll come around."

"He's had seven years, Mom," Tim snapped at her. He quickly closed his eyes. "I'm sorry, Mom. Maybe I should just go."

"No," said Sarah, yanking him down into the chair. "If you leave now, you two will never make up. And then this will just go on and on forever. I'm tired of being an only child, Tim. And what about Mom? I've been telling you for years that this isn't fair to her at all."

Tim leapt up to face his mother. "She's right. I owe you an apology, Mom. I should've come by a long time ago. I—".

"Not another word," she said. "Now sit down. I was just about to make your sister and father some lunch. And I have to agree with John on this one: you look like you haven't eaten in a while."

Tim's jaw dropped. "I lost weight because that's a good thing. In case you don't remember, I was a little overweight before."

"A little," teased Sarah.

"Sarah," snapped Mary.

"Just sayin'."

"She's right, Mom. Besides, you should've heard all the comments Tony would make—".

"Who's Tony?"

Tim was about to reply with a joke since Tony wasn't around to defend himself, when he realized how much of his life his parents knew nothing about. And an awfully important part of his life at that. At the thought of NCIS, he suddenly felt alien in his former home. He had changed so much. His life was so unique to anything he had ever imagined it would be as a boy in this house. Not only did his parents not know about his life…they no longer knew him. The title Special Agent only told part of it. "Sorry, I thought Sarah would've told you everything by now."

"Well, she barely told us anything," replied his mother sharply. "Because you asked her not to."

"Didn't think she would actually keep _that_ request," retorted Tim. "Besides, I thought you would spill the beans about everything since you were actually involved in a case. I was sure it would be the talk in the family for decades."

"I can keep a secret," said Sarah, with the most innocent face ever.

"What are you doing here, anyway," asked Tim. "I thought you had a job with a printing press in Baltimore?"

"I do," said Sarah. "But it is the weekend and when Mom told me that you were supposed to stop by today, I _had_ to come and see _this_."

"You're making this sound like it's some sort of showdown between me and Dad," said Tim sourly.

"That's because it is."

"C'mon Sarah, don't make this any worse than it is."

Sarah laughed. "Tim, you haven't changed at all. I can still be the bully over you."

"Alright, alright," said Mary from her position at the counter. "I almost forgot how badly you two bicker when you're together. Tim, milk or water?"

"Milk," replied Tim. He had a gripping feeling of nostalgia. He suddenly wished that he could go back to his childhood, where Mom was always serving his favorite sandwich with milk, and his worst fear was Dad's disapproval. He realized then how much he missed his family; home. It was easy to call NCIS home and family. So much had happened there; he had grown there to become the man he was today. And while, yes, Dr. Rachel Cranston had pointed out that he was lacking a soul mate, he knew that he was still more content at NCIS than he had been anywhere else in his life. Even this home; here, the disapproval spurred him to get away as quickly as possible.

The backdoor opened. Dad had returned. Tim didn't even turn around to meet his gaze. He kept his eyes fixated on the sandwich, only glancing up to meet his sister's eyes. He was slightly comforted to see that they were as nervous as he felt. So, his sister really was being a bully; she had her own insecurities about this reunion.

"John, we're out of Heineken," she said. "Looks like you'll be drinking milk today."

"Nonsense," said John. "I'll just run out to the store and get a six-pack."

Mary moved into his path, squaring her shoulders and hips. "Absolutely not. As long as Timothy is here, no one is leaving this household. We could all use a good visit."

Tim felt like he was twelve again; his mother having to stand up for him. He couldn't take it. He was a federal agent, for goodness' sakes!

"Dad," he said, standing up. "Could we please just…visit? Mom and Sarah have been keeping me updated on everything, but it's not the same as…well…hearing it from you. Tell me about everything…starting with how Mom talked you into getting a dog."

The kitchen was silent and tense as John looked at his son. He then took his plate from the counter and went to the table with it. When he sat, Tim sat. When he took a bite, Tim took a bite. Sarah and Mary just watched with bated breath. After another minute of silence, Sarah couldn't take it anymore.

"You two are so stubborn!"

Tim actually smiled. This was the only place in the world that he was considered stubborn. At work, surrounded by the likes of Gibbs, Tony, and Ziva, he was the only level-headed person there. He was the one rolling his eyes at stubbornness or at a silence between two people that no one could stand or even begin to fathom.

"What are you smiling about," asked Sarah, annoyed.

"Nothing," murmured Tim. "Just thinking. So, Dad, the dog?"

"I'll make you a deal, Timothy," he said, wiping his mouth with a napkin. He looked his son squarely in the eye. Tim was proud of himself for keeping the contact. Still, that was expected with all the practice he got with Gibbs. "I tell you a story and you tell me a story."

"Deal," Tim readily agreed. "Do we get to name the conditions?"

"Yes," replied John. "And I ask first."

"But—". Tim stopped when his Dad raised a hand.

"Now listen, boy. I've been thinking a lot about this question for a few years now." He heaved a breath. "Are your coworkers as dysfunctional as you write them in your book?"

Tim's jaw dropped, his Dad smirked, his Mom giggled, and Sarah barked out a laugh, even as Tim sent her a death glare that Gibbs would be proud of.

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><p><strong>TBC<strong>

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><p>Please review! Like it so far, or not? Need a beta? Lemme know, I appreciate the constructive criticism.<p>

Once more, if they gave McGee's parents' names, I don't remember. Tell me and I'll change it.

Thanks!


	2. Chapter 2

****I am SO sorry for the long wait. Real life was intense lately. Anyway, I promise to upload more quickly from now on. Hope y'all enjoy!

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><p><strong>Chapter Two: Invitation Only<strong>

Even Sarah McGee had to admit that she was glad that looks could not kill; she would surely be dead right now from the look she was getting from her older brother.

"I thought I told you to keep that a secret," he said.

"You did," admitted Sarah. "But I couldn't help it. After that whole fiasco at NCIS, I came home and found out that Mom was actually reading the book. She was telling me about it one night; telling me about how she was enjoying the fact that she had the time to read these days. You know she's a fan of those kinds of books."

Tim sighed and looked at his mother. "You actually like them?"

"Yes," she said, hugging him around the shoulder. "Honey, I think it's great that you've got such a cool hobby."

"Not to mention it makes you some money," added John.

Mary shot her husband a glare of her own, but Tim actually smiled at the comment. "Well, yes, the characters are _loosely_ based off my coworkers."

"Loosely," exclaimed Sarah. "I had Tommy and Lisa pegged the moment I met them."

Tim held up his hands. "Okay, I get enough of this at work ever since _you_ told them. But really, they've gotten over it and things have changed so much since then—well, they aren't exactly the same people that you met a few years ago, Sarah."

His tone was so sincere that Sarah let her smile fall from her face. She cocked her head sideways. "Really?"

"Well, Tony is still acts like a goof and Ziva is still badass and Gibbs is still…Gibbs. But honestly, things have changed some. There is one thing I never put in that I never put in those books."

"And what's that," asked John.

Tim swallowed. "I don't want you guys to take this the wrong way, but…well we're family over there."

Mary smiled and put her hand over his. "We understand."

"Son, out of everyone here besides yourself, I should know what it's like to work with people closely for years and get that kind of feeling," said John. "There's nothing wrong with having another family. I'm glad you do. I'm glad that you're going into the field every day with people who have your back. I know how you feel."

Tim smiled and realized that he and his father had more in common than he realized.

"You know," said his mother as they finally began to eat their sandwiches. Tim was beginning to feel like he had never left his house. "Maybe we should have them all over one day; for lunch or dinner."

Tim's sandwich was halfway to his mouth when he froze. The idea had occurred to him before…in nightmares. The visions of his father meeting Abby and Tony? Knowing that his son had once dated Abby? Knowing that his son was taking orders from DiNozzo? He might get along with Ziva—they were both hardcore enough. He didn't know what to think about Gibbs. Their fearless leader always had something to say to a father who may have neglected his kid. But if he saw that Tim was getting along with his dad, then maybe he would let it slide? His father might find Ducky eccentric and Jimmy a little weak, but he knew that his mother would adore them. In fact, his mother would probably adore all of them; they all had their charms. That was half the battle. It would all come down to his father. Tim was holding onto the hope that maybe they would just never have to find out.

"I don't know, Mom," he answered finally. "It's hard to make plans, ya know? We get cases so randomly." He was trying to discourage her, but he must've been away too long to forget her persistence. He should've known; her being an Admiral's wife and all.

"Well, we can make plans and if we have to cancel, we can always reschedule," said Mary optimistically. "There's nothing we can do if you have a case. Besides, it's not like your father and I are going anywhere."

Tim looked at his dad who was looking at him with some amusement in his eyes. He knew what his son was trying to avoid. "So they are like the people in your book?"

"Dad," growled Tim, clearly not happy with being teased. "I just—they're different, but they're my best friends."

"I promise to keep an open mind." Tim narrowed his eyes at his father. "Hey, if they work for a federal agency, how bad can they be?"

Tim let out a sigh while Sarah barked out a laugh.

_You have no idea, _thought Tim.

()()()()()()()

Even though Tim liked to come in every day like a morning person, even he hated Mondays. He had spent the entire weekend at his parents', grateful not to be interrupted by any cases. He had gotten a call from Abby, inviting him to come to a bowling tournament because the team of nuns was one short. (He smiled when he remembered explaining that to his parents.) He declined by telling her where he was. She had been so happy for him and expected a full report today. He hoped that he would get the chance. He wouldn't mind a slow Monday of paperwork or cold cases. Usually, he hated it, but sometimes it was a break.

Tony came in muttering about construction near his apartment building, while Ziva seemed chipper than usual. They got to bickering about exercise when Ziva explained her new running route (8 miles). She teased Tony for not exercising more, but Tim had to admit to himself that Tony seemed to be losing weight lately. He was hoping that it was in a healthy way and that he still wasn't berating himself over the whole microchip business. Gibbs was already present somewhere in the building—go figure. Abby bounced in, pronouncing that she was bored because _no one_ had a case. Not even another team.

As Tim chatted with Abby about his weekend and Tony and Ziva were laughing about something on the computer, Tim tried to imagine them at his parents' house. He thought that maybe it could work. Ziva was more American and more calm and nice. Tony was growing up. Abby was just Abby and charmed just about anyone. Tim thought that her mother would adore Abby. Then Gibbs walked into the bullpen and with a head slap for DiNozzo and an inquisition about work, they were silent and constructive. Tim smiled—his dad and Gibbs _would_ probably get along. Penny was right: they were very much alike in how they took care of their kids.

The weekend was a learning time for all the McGees. Tim heard all sorts of stories about what was going on in his family these days, and finally how they had gotten a dog after all these years. Tim told him about his own dog, Jethro, and how he had happened to get it. This led him to talk about all his teammates and the workings of NCIS. He kept it as G rated as possible. But his mother sometimes seemed worried and his father seemed to look at him in a new light.

On Sunday, he and his father had had a good talk.

_"Dad," he asked as they walked down the street with the dog. "Are you proud of me?"_

_ It was such a sudden question that he didn't feel offended by the surprised look on his father's face. But the quick answer left Tim equally surprised. "I've always been proud of you, son."_

_ Tim swallowed. "You never said anything. You just kept telling me to do better."_

_ John stopped, looking off into the distance as he contemplated his words. "Son, I only knew one way to raise someone: the Navy way. I was raised by the Navy and then I grew up to make men out of boys when they joined the Navy. And then I went onto lead those same men into battle. I could think of no other way to raise a son other than push him. But I have never been disappointed in you. You're so smart. And I'm glad you've found a way to put your skills to use. And I've never been more proud that _my_ son is out there protecting our country with his technology skills."_

_ Tim let out an uneven breath, feeling some emotion. But he didn't want to show it in front of his father. _

_ "I wish I had been a better father," murmured the Admiral at last. "I've been doing a lot of thinking over the years, especially when I stopped hearing from you. I kept telling myself that I was terrible for having pushed my own son away from me. But I was a coward too. I could fight a naval battle in a heartbeat, but my hand would shake when I went to pick up the phone to call you. I was so happy when you called me."_

_ "Really," asked Tim._

_ "Oh yeah," replied the Admiral. "But I was nervous too."_

_ "You?"_

_ "Everyone gets nervous, Timothy. I didn't want to screw up again. I didn't want to push you away."_

_ Tim let out a chuckle. "Funny—I was thinking the same thing." He sighed. "Look, Dad, we can't go back and change the past. And I'm not gonna lie, I've been mad at you for a long time for never telling me 'Good job' or something like that. But how about we just start over, okay? I mean, we're kind of different people now, but you're still my father. And I just want you to know that I am proud of that fact."_

_ Tim was startled to see some tears in his father's eyes. Granted, none were shed, but Tim felt good that he had elicited such emotion from his father._

_ John clapped a hand on Tim's shoulder. "Thank you, son."_

_ Tim knew that that was the closest thing he was going to get for 'I love you' but he could live with that for now. Because he really had no memory of his father ever telling him 'thank you'. _

_ Maybe things really were going to change for the better._

Tim let out a breath and texted his mother about what would be a good weekend for them to come over. He was now testing that 'changing for the better'. He got a quicker reply than he expected: _This weekend if they could?_

Tim swallowed; that was quicker than he thought. But he obediently sent back _okay, I'll see_ and put his phone aside. Today was going to be Operation Invitation.

()()()()()()()

Abby was easiest. "Of course I would love to meet your parents Timmy! Just tell me when!"

"Maybe this weekend?"

"Awesome."

"I'll give you more details later, okay?"

"Sure thing! Just let me know." Another squeal as she turned back to her babies. "So exciting!"

Ducky and Jimmy were just as enthusiastic about it.

"I would be honored to meet your parents," said Ducky. "Just tell me when."

"I would love to, Tim, but Breena and are spending the weekend at Virginia Beach," replied Jimmy.

Meanwhile, Tim was thinking that the less people at once, the better. He didn't want to overwhelm his parents.

"That's fine, Jimmy," said Tim. "Maybe another time. You guys have fun. I'll let you know later, Duck."

They got a kidnapping case so the next 48 hours were rough as they expended all their energy into recovering two young children. Tim actually forgot about inviting anyone else and from the looks of it—so had Abby, Ducky, and Jimmy. Everyone was so focused. They were rewarded though by the sight of the children being reunited with their parents. The Director gave them Thursday off and that was when Tim found himself battling in his mind about who he should ask next.

He wasn't going to lie: he was mostly worried about _inviting_ Tony, Ziva, and Gibbs. He finally opted on going over to the Boss' house unannounced Thursday afternoon.

"Hey, Boss," he greeted.

Gibbs was in his kitchen, fixing his sink. Briefly, he looked surprised at seeing Tim there. Tim didn't come over often. Not unless something was really troubling him.

"Everything okay, Tim," asked Gibbs as he sat up and wiped his hands.

Tim leaned against the counter. "Yeah. Actually, everything is going great. I talked to my dad last week—after that case involving Penny. We, uh, well I went up to my parents' house over the weekend and we—well everything is a lot better."

Gibbs gave him a half-smile. "Glad to hear it, Tim. But was there another reason besides a news flash that you came by?"

Tim blushed. "Well, my parents and I have been catching up and they wanted to meet you all. I was wondering if you had any plans this weekend? My mom invited you and the team over."

Gibbs shrugged. "Sounds nice. How should I dress?"

"Just like you always do, Boss," said Tim. "No need to be any different than who you are."

He could tell that Gibbs appreciated that. "Okay then, McGee. I'll be there. Got a time?"

"Noon on Saturday," said Tim. He handed him a piece of paper. "Here's the address. And I think Abby was looking to ride with someone."

"Who else is going," asked Gibbs.

Tim shrugged. "So far, I've got Ducky, Abby, and you. I asked Ducky and Abby before we got the case on Monday. I kinda forgot after that. Still need to ask Tony and Ziva." His voice had trailed off some then.

Gibbs smirked. "Saving the best for last?"

Tim felt a little queasy. "Am I wrong to feel a little worried about all of you guys meeting my parents?"

Gibbs actually chuckled. "No. Everyone feels that way about their parents."

"Believe it or not, I'm actually more worried about their reaction to you guys," said Tim. "No offense, Boss."

"None taken," replied Gibbs. "Because I understand. You know I hear all those things DiNozzo says about me whenever we have to meet someone relatively important." Tim nodded with a smile. "Tim, don't worry about it. We are who we are."

Tim actually stood up straighter. "Yeah. My dad promised to be open-minded."

Gibbs sighed. "You're not open-minded in my book until you've met Abby."

Tim laughed, in full agreement.

Friday came around and Tim was praying the whole day that no case would come up. None did and he finally got the chance to corner Ziva and Tony in the break area. He decided it would be better to ask them together.

"So do you guys have plans for the weekend," asked Tim.

Ziva spun around, coffee in hand. "Tony was going to take me to my first NFL game." She actually seemed excited about it.

"Really," said Tim. "I hadn't heard of this."

"That's because we've been keeping it under wraps, McNosy," said Tony, as he watched his bagel go round and round in the microwave.

"Why is that," asked Tim slyly. He let his voice carry that romantic tone.

"Because I was only able to get my hands on one other ticket," growled Tony, not liking the way that Tim was making it sound. "That's the _only_ reason."

"Sure, whatever," teased Tim. Ziva was glaring at him, though so he muttered "Sorry" before taking a seat beside her at one of the tables.

"Why do you ask," asked Ziva.

"Well, um, I caught up with my parents recently," he began. Tony actually turned around and took an interest. Tim actually felt happy for his reaction; actually showing that he cared. "This past weekend actually. And everything was…nice. Anyway, when I say we caught up, I mean a lot. I've told them all about working here and…they want to meet everyone. My mom especially does." He realized he was talking really fast and took a breath while looking from one to the other.

The silence was broken with a _ding!_ from the microwave. Tony pulled out his bagel and sat down at the table with it. Tim watched him cut it in half, place one on a napkin and slide the one on the paper plate to Ziva. He raised his eyebrows at Tim.

"No thanks," said Tim. He then watched Tony impersonate a great white from Shark Week as he took a bite from his bagel.

"We'll be there, Tim," said Ziva.

"You will," asked Tim, so surprised at how easily they had agreed. He hadn't even asked. He looked at Tony who nodded vigorously.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," said Tony threw his mouth full of bagel. "A chance to see the Admiral, see that hot sister of yours, and meet your mother who must've given your sister her good looks. Not to mention: the place where the Probie was raised."

Tim rolled his eyes at Tony's reasoning while Ziva chuckled. But inside, Tim was happy that his friends had so readily been up to it.

'"You didn't think we wouldn't want to, did you," asked Tony. "We aren't that heartless, Timmy."

Tim blushed. "I've never thought you were heartless, Tony. I just thought—well you know, I'm the McGeek, the Probie. I didn't think you would actually want to meet my _family_."

"We met Penny," put in Ziva. "And she was great. And your sister was very nice and smart. Besides, you know what Abby says: we are family, right? Your family is our family."

"As long as they aren't the head of any assassin agencies," said Tony. He yelped when Ziva kicked him under the table.

"Oooh that was low," commented Tim with a smile. That made Ziva smirk. Tony shrugged and tossed his plate over his shoulder, so that it landed in the trash can behind him.

"So when is it, Probie," asked Tony.

"Tomorrow at noon," replied Tim. "Ducky, Abby, and Gibbs are gonna be there too."

"Did you invite Jimmy," asked Ziva, looking worried.

"Yes, I did," assured Tim. "But he and Breena are spending the weekend in Virginia Beach."

"Eewww," said Tony in a good imitation of a little kid. Then, again, that wasn't very hard for him.

This time, Ziva rolled her eyes. "We will be there," she repeated. "And we will behave ourselves, right?" She was looking pointedly at Tony.

"Sure," said Tony with a grin. "Best behavior. Now, do you think your mother would divulge any childhood stories about you? Because Penny had some great ones."

Tim sighed, knowing that was as far as he was going to get. But, still, he was glad that his two families would finally meet.

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><p><strong>Please review so I know what y'all think! Thanks a bunch!<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

I know, it's short. But it's a lead up chapter so the next one should be much more filling. Enjoy!

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><p><strong>Chapter Three: Never That Easy<strong>

Apparently, fate wasn't going to allow them to have that lunch that weekend. They got a case late that Friday night. But fate wasn't done. Lunch wasn't going to happen the following weekend. Or the next. Suddenly, it was the end of October and Tim was beginning to believe that this had been some of the roughest past few weeks he was enduring. They were all tired these days. A long mind game had gone on with a serial killer for two weeks until they were finally able to put him away; but not without burying two young girls. The mentally and emotionally draining cases were always the worse.

Each weekend, everyone would push back their plans, including lunch at the McGees. The first week of November was exceptionally quiet. Well, as quiet as it got in their squad room. With nothing to do, the antics between them all went up a few notches with each passing day. The week was so quiet that it took Friday a millennia to come around. But no one was really complaining. They all needed the break. On Friday afternoon, Abby was bouncing up and down, happy to finally meet Tim's parents.

Or so they thought.

At first, he thought the phone ringing was a part of his dream. He was at a bar, talking with a beautiful girl; a mobile interruption seemed about par with his current dating life. Then, he jolted awake when he realized that it really was his phone. But when he reached for it, it went to the message. He closed his eyes briefly when he heard the answering machine come to life.

"PROBIE! GET YOUR SKINNY BUTT OUT OF BED AND PICK UP THE PHONE!"

Tim practically levitated off his bed in shock. He didn't think the answering machine could get that loud. He rolled over and picked up the phone.

"What?"

"Dead sailor at Dumbarton Oaks Park. I'm picking up Ziva now, be ready in ten."

Tony sounded like he was still asleep too. Tim glanced at the clock and groaned when he read 4:12 AM.

"Okay, I'll be ready."

Tony hung up without another word and Tim set his home phone down on the bedside table. With a sigh, he rolled out of bed and started picking up an outfit from off the floor. He spotted his calendar on the desk and groaned when he remembered what they were supposed to be doing today. He supposed lunch at the McGees would have to wait. Again.

()()()()()()()

As the sun was rising, Tim and Tony were on their way across D.C. to speak with the parents of the deceased sailor. Tim was falling asleep as Tony blabbered away about something. Tim liked to think that Tony was talking on and on to keep himself awake while driving; it made Tim feel better by thinking that since he was completely ignoring his partner. Eventually, he fell asleep and only woke at the slamming of the car door. He looked up. They were at the parents' house and Tony was walking up the sidewalk to the front door of the house.

"You coming?"

Tim rubbed his eyes and hopped out the car, mentally prepping himself for the challenge of informing the parents that their child was dead. Out of everything about his job, this was one of the things he hated most about it. It was always worse when it was a murder and they had to go through the entire case.

Tony knocked on the door. It was roughly 0600 on a Saturday, so Tony was sure to give them plenty of time before hitting the doorbell. Still, nothing. Almost reluctantly, Tony struck the doorbell again.

"I hate this," muttered Tony.

"Me too."

"It's so awkward when you don't know if they're home or not so you keep hitting the doorbell or knocking but you don't want to sound impatient or rude about it either if they are home. You know what I mean?"

Tim just stared at Tony for a moment before shaking his head. He _did_ know the feeling but wasn't in the mood to discuss it. He knew this was just Tony's way of deflecting; he hated this as much as Tim. But it was too early for Tim to even think about trying to keep up with Tony's mind right now.

"Did you have coffee already," asked Tim as Tony was deciding on whether or not to knock again.

"No. Does it look like I've had coffee yet? When would I have even had time to get coffee?"

Tim just shrugged. He didn't want to admit that his brain was acting sluggish enough to make Tony's usual serotonin levels seem even higher.

"Can I help you boys with something?"

They spun around, where an elderly man bent over a cane was standing by the mailbox.

"Um, are you Mr. Hughes," asked Tim.

"No, I'm their neighbor," replied the old man. "They're not here, though. They went camping for the weekend."

Tony looked ready to shoot something. "Do you know where that would be, Mr…"

"Lewis," offered the old man. "And yes, I know exactly where they go camping. It's the same place as usual."

()()()()()()()

"You know you're out in the boondocks when the radio channels start going country," said Tony as he scanned through the radio.

"Just hook up your iPod," said Tim impatiently. He was holding his phone out the window to try and get service.

"You hook your iPod," shot back Tony.

Tim sighed and looked at him. "Why do you always have to do that?"

"Do what?"

"Counter everything I say."

"I'm not countering everything you say."

"Tony!"

"I don't have my iPod with me so just hook up yours and I promise I'll shut up."

"Yeah, right." Tim turned his attention back to his phone. "I'll hook it up after I make this call."

"Callin' the rents," asked Tony with a corny grin.

"Yeah, to tell them we won't make it. Again."

"Don't look so glum McPout," said Tony. "The most weekends I've worked in a row is six."

"This makes four," said Tim.

"I know. So, just two more unless we're figuring on breaking the record before the year's out."

"Yes! Service!" Tim quickly dialed his parents' home number.

Tony was turning up the radio when his dad picked up. Tim quickly batted Tony's hand away so that he could hear his dad.

"But I love this song," argued Tony.

"No you don't, you're just being annoying," said Tim.

Tony shot him a grin but switched off the radio.

"Hello," his dad was asking into the phone.

"Dad?"

"Tim. What's going on?"

"I'm real sorry, Dad, but we're not going to be able to make it again. We got a case this morning."

His father chuckled lamely. "Sounds like you're trying to avoid us, Timothy."

Tony had obviously heard the barb, because he made an 'O' with his lips and let out a teasing whistle. Tim shot him a glare and looked out the window.

"No, Dad, that's not true," said Tim. "We've never been so busy—well not for a while. Just tell Mom, will you?"

"You know, Tim," said the Admiral. "Why don't you take a weekend off, just you so that we can see you again? Your mother and I aren't getting any younger."

"Dad, I can't," said Tim. "That would leave us a man down. But our team is up for getting take off rotation soon. I'll find out when that is and we'll make plans for then, how about?"

"If you say so, Tim," replied John. "I just—I think you're working too hard over there."

"Dad, you have no right to say that," said Tim with an uneven chuckle.

Immediately, his father's tone of voice changed. "Excuse me, son. What are you trying to say?"

Tim frowned. "I'm just saying that after all the years you worked…well I thought you would understand, Dad. I mean, I'm just doing my job." He was starting to feel uncomfortable about having this conversation with Tony in the car. "Listen Dad, I'm busy. I'll call later."

The Admiral didn't appear to have heard that last part. "Are you saying that I worked too hard all those years? I was doing my duty."

Now _that _made Tim snap. "And what do you think I'm doing?"

"Something worthless like tapping away on your keyboard all day."

Tim barely had time to process that statement before Tony's hand was flying across his face, trying to grab his cellphone.

"Lemme talk to this guy," said Tony. "I'll give him a piece of my mind. Calling my Probie's work worthless, who does he think he is?"

Tim put a hand over the phone. "He's my father, Tony, and there is now way in hell that I'm going to let you talk to him. Now watch the road."

Tony gripped the steering wheel so tightly, his knuckles were white. And while Tim appreciated the gesture, this was not how he wanted Tony and the Admiral to start speaking to each other. He put the phone back to his ear, his father still rambling.

"You're probably just trying to avoid us; probably avoiding me because you're afraid."

Tim let out a breath. He had always prided himself on remaining calm, even when provoked. He especially prided himself on this where his father was concerned.

"Dad, I really need to go. I'll talk to you later." With that he hung up.

"You just hung up on your dad," asked Tony, a little shocked.

"Done it before," muttered Tim. "I usually do it when he's acting all self-righteous." He sighed. "Why, you've never hung up on your dad?"

Tony snorted. "Uh…no."

Tim shrugged. Where Tony would usually hang up on just about anyone when he was annoyed enough, all bets were off about what he would do when around Senior.

An awkward silence permeated the Charger. Tim realized that Tony had heard every word of that conversation and was probably drawing his own conclusions about the Admiral.

"Don't tell anyone about that, please," said Tim. "It's just a bump in the road. You know? I mean, it wasn't just going to magically go back to the best father-son relationship, was it? You know that better than most."

Tony nodded. "Yeah."

"So you won't tell anyone?"

"Promise."

And from the sincerity in Tony's eyes, Tim knew he could trust this promise.

"But I need something from you first."

Tim rolled his eyes. Seriously? Tony was going to get something out of him on this. That was low; even for Tony.

"What," he practically growled.

"Just know that you're work isn't worthless, Tim," said Tony. "No one on this team is. Everyone has their niche and everyone's niche is as equally important as the next. Got that? You are not worthless."

Tim smiled. "Yeah. Thanks, Tony,"

"That's what I'm here for."

"Moral support," teased Tim.

"You callin' me a cheerleader?"

"Maybe."

"Put your damn iPod in before you talk yourself into a hole Probie."

Tim smiled and dug out his iPod, knowing that the next hour in the car with Tony was going to be a long one.

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><p>Please review! Thanks!<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

**I apologize for my very, very overdue update. Real life certainly became an adventure of its own and this story was put on the backburner. Thanks to anyone who thinks about giving this story a try again. I completely understand if I get the cold shoulder here. **

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><p><strong>Chapter Four-Caught off Guard<strong>

Tim and Tony found the campsite quiet and empty when they arrived. The sun was still low enough that not much sunlight was coming through the thick boughs of the pine trees that filled the area. It was definitely colder in these hills than it was in the city. It had snowed just a little over night, so there was about an inch of snow on the ground. The fresh precipitation crunched underneath their feet and that was the only sound in the area. There was an old Chevrolet parked right on the bank of a frozen lake. About twenty yards away, under the cover of pine trees, was a tent and fire pit that was currently cold. Tony and Tim looked around the area, but there was no one there.

"I don't understand camping to begin with," grumbled Tony as he peeked into the tent. "But I really don't understand it in the winter time. It's freezing!"

"Well, Tony," said Tim. "If you have the right clothing and equipment, you're just as warm as you are at home. As long as nothing goes wrong. Not to mention, winter in the woods can be just as beautiful as spring time."

"Lemme guess," said Tony, looking over at him. "You went on a lot of winter wonderland excursions during your Lost Boys Scout days."

Tim shrugged in response. "Wouldn't be much of an Eagle Scout if I couldn't manage all conditions, now would I?"

"Whatever." Tony wandered around the truck, peering through the windows.

"Are we going to follow them," asked Tim. "They probably just went on a morning hike."

"Nah," said Tony, making his way back to the car. "We can just wait here for them. No need in missing them in the woods. No offense to you, McTracker. But we're waiting in the car this time."

"It'll be warmer if we're moving," prompted Tim.

"We'll be fine in the car."

"Wuss," muttered Tim as he sauntered by Tony and threw open the car door.

"I heard that, McMutter," snapped Tony. In the car, he started rummaging in his pockets. "And for that, you're not getting any of this." He whipped out a Nutter Butter like it was a light saber.

Tim just laughed. "You know what another part of being an Eagle Scout is?"

Tony frowned.

Tim pulled out his own Nutter Butter. "Being prepared."

()()()()()()()

"No service," snapped Ziva for the fifth time. She gripped the door handle as Gibbs made a sharp turn onto the interstate. She looked at him with determination. "We know that they are in a remote area. No service can be expected. That does not mean anything happened to them."

"That's not what my gut's telling me," replied Gibbs tersely. "We should have gotten more information on the parents before we sent them all the way out there."

"Gibbs," said Ziva. "It was routine. We thought that we were only sending them to give bad news to the parents. Not that the parents were actually involved. It is no one's fault."

Gibbs was silent for a moment, probably not really listening to Ziva's words of reason.

"Call Abby," he finally said. "Get her to check their location."

Ziva quickly did as she was ordered. Abby picked up on the first ring.

"I know! I know," was the greeting. "I'm putting a trace on both their cellphones right now. Just give me about thirty seconds." Ziva heard the sound of Abby slurping the last of her Caf Pow! up. "How far are you guys?"

"We only left the Yard five minutes ago, Abby," answered Ziva more calmly than she felt. "It'll still be another hour and a half before we get out there." She stole a glance to her boss. "Even with Gibbs driving."

"I know," wailed Abby. "I'm just so worried." Ziva heard a beep from Abby's computer. "Okay, they're right where they said they were headed. At least, their phones are. I'll keep an eye on it and let you know if anything changes."

"Thanks, Abby," replied Ziva before hanging up. She looked at Gibbs. "They are at the camp site where they said they were headed."

Gibbs gave a sharp nod. He flipped on the siren and lights that sat on the dashboard. "Make that an hour. Now we don't have to worry about traffic."

()()()()()()()

Tim was enjoying a game of Temple Run on his iPhone in the car as he and Tony waited for the return of the Hughes couple. Tony was actually soundly asleep by now. It was a half hour after they had finished up their Nutter Butters. Tony had put his seat back, insisting that he was only "resting his eyes". He was out like a lamp within a minute. Not that Tim blamed him. It was the only the cold that was keeping him up at the moment. Even though they were in the car with the engine running and heat on, the chill still permeated into him. He was wishing that they had gone to track down the couple instead of just waiting for them.

His peripheral vision caught some motion in the woods and he looked over. He saw a lone man walking back into the camp site. He turned off his game and smacked Tony on the arm. Tony sat up with a gasp.

"Someone's here," said Tim.

Tony nodded as he rubbed his eyes. They exited the car and the man stopped just beside the tent, looking at them warily.

"Antennas up, Tim," murmured Tony. "Something isn't right."

Tim just nodded. The DiNozzo gut might not be as world famous as the Gibbs gut, but to those who knew him, it was trustworthy enough. As they got closer, they pulled out their ids.

"Special Agent DiNozzo," introduced Tony. "This is my partner, Special Agent McGee. We're with NCIS. Are you Robert Hughes?"

"Yes, sir," replied the man, taking a few cautious steps forward. "How can I help you?"

Tony lowered his badge. "I have some bad news, sir. Your son, he's dead."

The man's jaw lowered and he looked like he was trying to say something. But no sound escaped him. Shock and grief washed over his face quickly as he tried to compose himself. "How?" His voice was husky with emotion. "He just got home."

Tony swallowed. "He was murdered."

Now anger came over Hughes' expression, but he still didn't speak.

"Mr. Hughes," began Tim. "Your neighbor told us where we could find you and your wife. Where is she?"

Hughes blinked, obviously finding the topic change unexpected. A new show of grief passed over his features. "Oh, Maggie. She'll be devastated. She's still hiking. My ole knee was giving me trouble so I turned back early." He looked around the campsite as if she would appear to them.

"I understand that this is difficult for you, Mr. Hughes," said Tim. "But were you aware of any trouble your son was in?"

Hughes ran a hand over his worn face. "I don't know." He gave a shrug.

"Anything," urged Tony. "Anything he spoke of in his letters from overseas or something he's spoken about since he got home."

Hughes swallowed looking guilty. "I feel terrible telling you this." He clamped his mouth shut determinedly.

"Any information you give us right now will help," explained Tim. "Even if it doesn't pan out, we can get through that lead and eliminate suspects. We can catch your son's killer faster."

Tony nodded. "That's right, sir. It mind seem like a bogus lead to you, but it's better that you come clean now with any information rather than it looking worse from our viewpoint later on."

Hughes nodded with conviction. "Yes, of course you're right. Well, I know that he and his friend were arguing lately. I don't even know what about."

Tony pulled out his notebook. "What's his friend's name?"

"Tyler Barden," replied Hughes worriedly. "But everybody argues. It was probably nothing."

Tony fought back the urge to say that he had seen murders over the tiniest things. He put his notebook away. "Thank you, Mr. Hughes. We'll be doing all that we can to find your son's killer."

"Would you like us to stay until your wife comes back," asked Tim. He could've sworn that Tony shot him a quick glare.

"No, no," said Hughes with a distracted wave of his hand. "No, I can tell her by myself. She would probably prefer it that way. She—she doesn't like to grieve with company around."

The two agents nodded empathetically.

"Here, I have a picture of William and Tyler together just last year," said Hughes, walking over to his truck.

Tony's eyes narrowed and he followed closely. "That's okay, Mr. Hughes. We can get our own photo of Barden."

"No, no," replied Hughes. "Please, take it." He made his way to the passenger side, placing himself between the truck and the lake.

Tim didn't like where this was going. Tony apparently didn't either. He was keenly watching Hughes' movements, making Tim believe that his partner's outward empathies weren't deep enough to ward away his gut feeling. Obviously, the older agent thought Hughes was up to something more than searching for a photograph.

Unfortunately, Tony was right.

Hughes opened up the passenger door just enough to lean inside the truck. Tony had his hand on his holster, prompting Tim to do the same. Then, before either of them could react, Hughes threw his weight behind the door and flung it open, slamming it into Tony. Tony had no time to react and his head smashed against the window, cracking it. He limply fell to the ground and lay there unmoving.

Tim pulled his weapon and dropped for cover on the opposite side of the truck, but not before catching sight of a gun Hughes had pulled from his jacket. Tim's heart plummeted with the image of a vulnerable Tony lying at Hughes' feet. He yanked open the driver's door and fired.

The only part of Hughes' body that wasn't hidden was his left side and Tim made sure that he hit it. A cry of pain was confirmation. Not wasting another second, Tim hurried around the front of the truck. He wasn't processing that he could be running right into a bullet. He was only processing that Tony needed him. He threw himself into the car door, giving Hughes a taste of his own medicine when the man got smashed by it. Unfortunately, it didn't go exactly as Tim had planned. Hughes fell backwards instead of into the car. Tim had hoped he would be able to trap the man between the door and the car. The door slammed shut, leaving Tim and Hughes with a clear view of each other.

Hughes' gun was lying just a foot away, but his hands were closed tightly around the bullet wound in his side. He glowered up at Tim.

Tim stood over Tony, gun drawn and aimed between Hughes' eyes.

"Don't even think about it," said Tim when Hughes stole a glance to his own weapon. "Just keep your hands over your wound and don't move." He only broke eye contact for a moment as he glanced down at Tony beneath him. He could see a small puddle of blood from his head wound and he swallowed down his worry for now. He carefully nudged Tony in the chest to see if he was close to rousing. The older agent remained still.

Tim glanced back up at Hughes and started walking over to him. The two men kept their eyes on each other as Tim pulled out his handcuffs.

"Turn onto your stomach," ordered Tim. "Now."

Hughes bit his lip and started to slowly turn over. Tim knew he shouldn't have been taken by surprise by anything, but he was. Hughes once more went from being as slow as a turtle to as quick as a snake as he spun one leg and caught Tim in the back of the knees. He started going down and Hughes sat up to meet him. Tim never saw the knife coming, but he certainly felt it when it plunged deep into his abdomen. He let out a cry when Hughes twisted it, and Tim struggled to pull away. He regained his senses enough to pull the trigger.

Hughes was dead before he hit the ground, with a bullet in the heart. Tim staggered up to his feet, dropping his weapon and groping at the knife in his gut. His vision was swimming and his eyes locked onto Tony. He thought he saw the other man move, but he couldn't be sure with his swimming vision. He felt the blood starting to ooze into the fabric of his shirt and jacket, finally giving warmth to his fingers on this freezing day. He took a step back, trying to keep his balance.

That was all it took to lose it though.

He slipped on the ice and was falling backwards before he could even understand what was happening. His world was already going dark when he hit the ice, his body effectively cracking it. Seconds later, he didn't even register that he was going under.

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading. I've already got the next chapter writtenso after a good grammar check through it, I'll be posting. <strong>

**Reviews are appreciated if y'all**** aren't still mad at me for leaving y'all hanging for so long. **


	5. Chapter 5

**Jeez Louise! Y'all were blowin up my inbox! Here's the next chapter as promised! Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Chapter Five: Case Closed<strong>

"Call Abby again."

Ziva reached for her phone, but apparently Abby and Gibbs' synchronicity was working just fine even a good hour-and-a-half away from each other. As soon as Ziva touched her phone, it rang with Abby's picture coming up on the screen.

"They're moving," exclaimed Abby when Ziva answered. "They're on the highway. Actually, they aren't too far from you guys."

Ziva's head snapped up and she immediately spotted a car coming in their direction. They were the only two cars on the remote highway and at the speed they were approaching one another, Ziva quickly recognized the navy blue Charger coming their way.

"I see them," she said. "Thank you Abby!"

Gibbs stopped the car, parking it perpendicular to the road in the middle of the highway. The approaching Charger came to a halt, but rather jerkily, making Gibbs and Ziva wonder at the condition of the driver. Tony stumbled out and they ran over to him.

He was soaking wet and breathing heavily through chattering teeth. Blood spilled down the right side of his face from a gash on his temple. Leaning on the hood of the car for support, he drunkenly lifted an arm and pointed to the back.

"Tim—stabbed—." That was all he got out before a cough ripped from his throat. He slid down to the ground as Gibbs hurried to the back of the car. Throwing open the door, he found Tim wrapped in spare clothing and blankets, lying in the back seat.

"I'm calling 9-1-1," he yelled back to Ziva and Tony.

Ziva watched Tony relax into himself at Gibbs' voice. She thought he was actually falling asleep and she couldn't let that happen. She grabbed his shoulders and shook him hard.

"No, Tony, do not go to sleep. You need to stay awake!"

His eyes blearily opened up to hers. "What?" He started coughing again, wrapping his arms around himself. Ziva hit him on the arm to keep him awake.

"I will be right back," she said. She got up and ran to the sedan she and Gibbs had come in. In the trunk, she was able to find a few spare jackets and towels. She went back to Tony who was actually trying to stay awake. He was shaking now and she started pull on his shirt. She had no idea where his jacket was, but she saw it as one less cold piece of clothing to get through. She thought he had finally succumbed to unconsciousness as she pulled off his shirt, but he opened his eyes and smiled weakly at her.

"Really, Ziva? Already undressing me? We haven't even gone out on a date,"

She rolled her eyes playfully, but her eyes quickly went back to concern when he started coughing again. She put the dry jacket on him, and then started wrapping a scarf around his neck. His eye slipped shut as she took a towel to his face to wipe away the blood. She could hear the difficulty in his breathing and hoped that ambulance wasn't too far.

She took his hands into her own, worried when he didn't respond to her rubbing and blowing warmth into his fingers.

"Just hang on Tony," she whispered. "You both just hang on."

Meanwhile, Gibbs tended to Tim. While calling the ambulance, he had examined Tim's condition. The mystery of Tony's missing jacket was quickly solved when he found the dry garment on Tim. Before placing Tim in the back of the car, Tony had stripped away Tim's shirt. He had tied one towel around Tim's stomach in an effort to stop the bleeding from what looked like a knife wound. Gibbs counted one miracle upon seeing that it had worked and it didn't look like Tim had lost that much blood. Tony had stuffed some blankets in between the NCIS jacket and Tim's clammy chest, in hopes of preserving some warmth.

Gibbs began working on what Tony didn't. He pulled off Tim's shoes and socks in hopes of keeping Tim from losing some toes. He turned off the heat that was blasting in the car, knowing that when it got too hot it got dangerous for someone who was so cold. He didn't fault Tony, though, who was probably so cold, that he couldn't even feel the heat that was coming out of the vents.

When he had done everything he could think of, he was beside himself with impatience. His phone rang and he yanked it open, nearly breaking it in two.

"Gibbs," he spat.

"This is the 9-1-1 dispatcher you just called, sir," was the calm reply. "I wanted to let you know that the Navy is sending a helicopter to fly the agents to Bethesda. Since your destination is so remote, it would take too long for an ambulance to get out there."

Gibbs didn't hide the relief in his voice. "Thank you." He hung up, running a hand through his hair. Ziva hurried around the car to him. "How's DiNozzo?"

"He passed out," she said, worry clearly evident in her voice. "He could not stay awake. He was so cold."

Gibbs swallowed. He pointed into the car. "Keep McGee warm. A helicopter is on its way. I'll take care of DiNozzo." He walked around to the other side of the car, finding Tony slumped against the front wheel, head to the side. Gibbs ignored the rattled breathing for now and smacked across the cheek.

Tony woke up with a gasp, instantly going into a coughing fit. Gibbs pushed his shoulders back to Tony from curling in on himself and further cutting off his airways. When Tony finally stopped coughing, he looked up at Gibbs. Gibbs grabbed Tony's uninjured side of his face gently and kept him from falling sideways again.

"A 'cop is on its way, DiNozzo," said Gibbs. "And you and McGee can get warm again."

"Tim," said Tony. "Is he…?"

"He's doing as best he can for right now," said Gibbs. "You did good, Tony." He put his other hand on Tony's shoulder to keep him awake and steady for now. "I need you to tell me what happened."

Tony nodded and started rambling through chattering teeth. His words came out in fragments. "Got there…they weren't there. The Hughes weren't." Gibbs nodded his understanding. "Waited for them in the car. Tim said they…morning hike. Don't remember how long…waited. Hughes came back alone. The husband. Said his wife…still hiking. I don't where she is. Dead? Something wasn't right. Felt it. We told…what happened…son. He was acting. I knew it. Tim and I played along. Asked…usual questions. Hughes told us about a friend who…arguing with the kid. Wanted to…picture from the truck. I followed him. Thought he was gonna grab a gun or something. He slammed the car door into my face." Tony raised a shaky hand to his temple, but Gibbs pulled it away. "Stupid of me."

"We all get caught by surprise sometimes, DiNozzo," said Gibbs, trying to dissipate any guilt Tony felt. "When did you wake up?"

"Don't know how long. But when I did, Tim was falling. He fell on…ice and it broke. He went into the lake. It was shallow, thank God. There was a knife in him…came out when I pulled him out the lake. Got him to the car…got his clothes off. He was so cold and still. But he was breathing. So I just drove off. Hughes is dead. Tim must've shot him."

Gibbs nodded, squeezing Tony's shoulder. "He's gonna be okay, Tony. It wasn't your fault, all right?"

Tony didn't answer. Instead, his eyes started drooping. Gibbs shook Tony. "Hey! I said all right?"

Tony looked up at him with weary eyes. "Yeah, Boss. Whatever you say." He started coughing again, and Gibbs felt a chill go down his spine at the familiar sound. He put an arm around Tony's waist. "C'mon, let's get you back in the car where you get warmer."

Tony pushed himself up with Gibbs help and they made their way to the car where Ziva and Tim were. They found Ziva curled up against Tim's still body, with a blanket over both of them, trying to use her body heat to warm Tim up. Gibbs dumped Tony into the passenger seat and then went around to the driver's side. They closed all the doors to try and keep the cold out as best they could.

"Isn't that…violation of Rule 12, Ziva," muttered Tony as he pulled his scarf around his nose and mouth.

"You would not be saying that if you were Tim right now," was the quick reply.

"No," said Tony groggily. "I definitely wouldn't." He turned around in his seat so that he could properly see Tim. He reached out and grabbed Tim's hand. "You pull through…Probie. And when you do…never have to buy a Nutter Butter…the rest of your life."

Gibbs squeezed Tony's shoulder just as the precious sound of a helicopter arriving reached their ears.

()()()()()()()

Once Tim and Tony were in the air and on their way to the hospital, Gibbs let out a tired breath. It was after days like these when he seriously contemplated taking up Leon on those vacations he was always trying to force on him. He saw Ziva standing in the road with her eyes close, breathing deeply, her own way of pushing some emotions aside for the task at hand.

"Ziver," Gibbs called. Her eyes snapped open. "You take our car and follow me back to the campsite. On the way, call Ducky. Tell him to meet McGee and DiNozzo at Bethesda. And then tell him to send Palmer out to us. He can get the location from Abby. I'll call the local LEOs and Vance to let him know what's going on."

Ziva nodded and headed back to their car, while Gibbs went to the one the boys had been driving in. He had to take a moment and wiped away the bloody handprints from the steering wheel, wondering just whose blood he was wiping away or if it was mixture of both. This was precisely why he wanted to take this car. It was reeking with the coppery smell of blood and stench of lake water. Though he certainly believed Ziva would have handled it, he would still spare her from the act of driving around with it. In an effort to cleanse the car of the stench he even put down the windows, ignoring the freezing wind.

Ziva pulled in behind Gibbs at the camp site, but they parked far enough away from the scene so that their tire tracks wouldn't disturb any evidence. What they found was a mess of tracks, blood, and weapons, mostly all near the lake and truck.

Gibbs pointed out what he saw to back up what Tony had told him earlier. Ziva snapped photographs as he did.

The cracked passenger window that was also smeared with blood where Tony had been struck. The pool of blood in the snow, where his wound had bled out. The impression in the snow where his body had lain. Hughes' body and his abandoned gun on the ground beside him. Hughes' wounds in the side and the heart, where Tim had shot the murderer. The hole in the ice where Tim had fallen. The blood drops and foot prints and dragging marks left in the snow, leading from the lake to where tire tracks were. And the tire tracks indicating a quick departure of the car leaving the scene.

Gibbs then pointed out pieces of evidence Tony was unaware of, bringing some light upon what transpired while he was down. Gibbs told the story as he saw it.

"Casing for SIG P250 there," he said, pointing below the driver's side door. The door was still open. He pointed to the impressions in the snow. "McGee's weapon. He knelt here, took the shot, and hit Hughes in the side." Ziva snapped a photo of the casing. Gibbs followed Tim's foot prints around the car. They stopped in a wide stance over the impression left by Tony's body.

"He stood over Tony," said Ziva, pride evident in her voice. "He was protecting him."

"Atta boy, Tim," murmured Gibbs. "And then Hughes must've caught him by surprise with the knife. Tim kills him, but falls into the lake." He looked over to the hole in the ice. "DiNozzo said that the knife came out when he was puling McGee from the lake. We'll get it later."

Ziva looked around. "There was a wife, no? Where is she?"

Gibbs shook his head ever so slightly. "DiNozzo said Hughes came back without her. She really could be finishing up the hike, or Hughes killed her somewhere in the woods." He sighed. "We'll wait for the local LEOs before we send out a search party."

"Now we wait," asked Ziva.

"Yeah," murmured Gibbs, looking at the carnage around him. "Now we wait." He went silent, ever thankful that he had the best agents there ever were.

()()()()()()()

Ducky entered Bethesda arm-in-arm with Abby. He certainly wouldn't know if he looked away from the appendage. His arm could fall off and he would be none the wiser because of Abby's vice like grip that cut off both circulation and sensation. At least she was being quiet. She had gone still and silent on the way to the hospital after working herself into hysterics at the Yard. Not that Ducky blamed her. He knew how much she worried about everyone and how terrified she got when anyone was hurt even the slightest.

Put the words "Tim" and "Tony" and "injured" in a sentence, and worry was expected. Add "stabbing" into the mix and hysterics were a given.

Ducky was well-respected within the hospital for many things. So, he had no trouble getting the information he required to seek out their injured boys. Abby was clinging to him desperately, fighting her last nerve to just yell out their names in hopes that they would come to her. Ducky sighed with relief when he was greeted by an ER doctor who appeared to be waiting for him.

"Ah, Dr. Franklin," greeted Ducky, extending his unused hand to him. "I wish we could have caught up with one another at a better time. But as it is in this world, that is always wishful thinking."

"Unfortunately, Dr. Mallard," replied the younger man.

"Please, Samuel. My friends call me Ducky," said the M.E. "This is our forensic scientist, Abigail Sciuto, who is good friends with our injured agents."

"You're really young," accused Abby, her anxiety over the unknown condition of her friends driving her to leave her charming self behind at the Yard.

"Abigail," scolded Ducky. "This is Dr. Samuel Franklin. He went to medical school with Jimmy and is one of his friends."

That only smoothed down Abby's feathers the slightest. "Well, at least I know that Jimmy picks smart friends."

Ducky let out a nervous chuckle as his eyes went from Dr. Franklin to Abby. "You'll have to excuse Abigail. She is never herself when she's worried. Please, what can you tell us about Agents DiNozzo and McGee?"

"Well, I only tended to Agent DiNozzo who was suffering from a laceration on his right temple and the early stages of hypothermia. But he's already doing much better. We stitched up his head and got him warmed up. He was coughing a lot, and I did some chest x-rays. There wasn't anything to be concerned about, but I did prescribe antibiotics to combat any infection that might start from any water that got into his respiratory system."

Ducky nodded his approval while Abby exclaimed: "Lake water? What did they do?"

"Where is Agent DiNozzo," asked Ducky, ignoring her for the moment.

"In an exam room down the hall, filling out paperwork to discharge himself. I wasn't against it as long as he takes the prescriptions I gave him."

"I will make sure he does," promised Ducky. "Do you know anything about Agent McGee?"

Franklin shook his head. "I saw him come in and assess him. His doctor is Dr. James. You probably know him."

Ducky nodded. "Yes."

"Dr. James took Agent McGee to surgery to repair the tissue damaged by the knife," Franklin continued. He shot a wary look to Abby. "I gathered that it was deep. Agent DiNozzo kept asking questions so I went to find some answers. All I got was that the knife hit nothing vital."

Ducky and Abby released relieved sighs. "Thank you, Samuel," said Ducky. "If you could just point us in the right direction to find Agent DiNozzo, please."

"Sure, right this way."

He led them to one of the exam rooms where they found Tony dressed in a scrubs and a Navy sweatshirt with a few layers of socks on. He was sitting on the table, filling out paperwork with a shaky hand.

"Tony!"

He looked up just in time to catch Abby in a bone crushing hug. She stepped back after a moment. "You're cold!"

"That happens when you jump into a frozen lake, Abbs," he replied with a weak grin. He looked over her shoulder. "Hey Ducky."

"Hello, Anthony," replied the doctor. He took the paperwork from Tony's lap. "You have my permission to discharge yourself, but I think I'll help you complete this."

Tony smiled gratefully. "Thanks. Did you get any information about Tim?"

"No more than what you have," replied Ducky.

"What happened," asked Abby. But she didn't even give Tony a second to start talking before she dove into her own story. "Gibbs told Ziva to check out the parents and it turns out that the father was having an affair and the last phone call with his son was them arguing real bad. So, Gibbs got this terrible gut feeling and even _I_ started feeling a little hinky about it all. We tried calling you guys like a million times but there wasn't any service. So Gibbs and Ziva decided they were going to drive out there. It's a good thing they did. You could've died!"

"I'm fine, Abby," said Tony. "Just a little cold and I have a head ache, but it's Tim that's hurt."

"What happened," asked Abby again.

"Abigail," said Ducky. "Please, be patient and let the man take a breath."

Abby blushed and gave Tony another hug. "I'm sorry! I was just killing me that we couldn't reach you guys even though we were sure you were walking right into a trap."

"I gathered that," said Tony.

"So! What happened?"

"Abigail, if you ask that one more time, I will forbid you from listening to the story," said Ducky. "And you will have to get it from their reports later."

Abby clamped her mouth shut and made a motion of locking it up and throwing away the key. Tony let out a smile before tiredly telling them what he knew.

"I guess we'll have to wait for Timothy to give us the rest," said Ducky, after Tony finished.

"Mhmm," agreed Abby through her shut mouth. But tears were glistening in her eyes.

Tony pulled her onto the exam table beside him and let her lean against his chest. "It's gonna be okay, Abby. You heard the doc. Tim is just gonna have this awesome, sexy scar afterwards."

Abby sniffled. "But hearing about some monster _stabbing_ Timmy…that's just horrible!"

Tony looked down at her. "You know, this isn't very healthy of you. You need to come to terms with the fact that our jobs can be dangerous."

"Healthy of me," exclaimed Abby. "You guys are the ones that get shot and stabbed and nearly drown and get the plague and get locked in prisons with crazy women and end up in terrorist camps half way around the world and get kidnapped by drug cartels and go into comas and go on crazy secret missions and—". She stopped when Tony out a hand over her mouth.

"No need to remind me," he said.

"Right," she replied with a sheepish smile.

"You're all set, Anthony," said Ducky, clicking his pen shut. "Why don't I drive you home to get into your own clothes? Probably something warmer, eh?"

"Only if you promise to drive me straight back," said Tony, eyeing Ducky conspiratorially.

"I promise," said Ducky.

Tony and Abby stood up. "You'll be okay here by yourself while we're gone," asked Tony to Abby.

Abby nodded. "I'll call you if anything happens while you're gone."

Tony kissed her cheek. "Thanks, Abby. You're the best."

Abby smiled sweetly. "That's what they tell me."

"Just don't terrorize the staff too much," Tony said. "They'll have enough of that when Gibbs gets here."

()()()()()()()

When Gibbs and Ziva finally reached Bethesda, night was settling over the Eastern seaboard. They had been taking care of the trying case all day. Once the local LEOs had come to secure the area, they had gathered up the evidence and then went on a search party for Mrs. Hughes. They found her body in a fresh grave about a mile from the campsite. They helped Palmer get the bodies into the van so that he could bring them back to the Yard where he performed both autopsies over the course of the day. Ducky was quite proud of his protégé for handling everything without assistance.

Now, the older M.E. was greeting Gibbs and Ziva in the hallway of the hospital to update them. They were certainly tired, but Ducky knew that they wouldn't really rest until they had answers.

"They'll both be fine," he said. "Timothy woke up briefly after his surgery, but the drugs are doing their job. He's sleeping for now. The knife cut into his spleen and apparently was twisted. But, thanks to unbelievable medicine these days, they didn't have to remove it and were able to patch it up. He was lucky, though, because an inch higher and he would've been stabbed in the diaphragm. He certainly wouldn't have lived if that had happened. By the way, I opted not to tell Abigail that last bit, and I suggest you do the same. She's in there with them, right now."

"Them," asked Ziva. "I thought Tony was discharged."

"Ahh, yes," said Ducky. "Anthony is currently occupying the other bed in the room. The nurses are quite ticked off with him since they can no longer consider that a double room."

"Why don't they just kick him out," asked Gibbs with a wry grin.

"Because he fell asleep and now they've all agreed that he's better off that way," said Ducky. "Though, he does need to be woken up every now and then because of the concussion."

"Can we go in," asked Ziva.

"Yes, but let me tell Abigail that you are here," he said. "We have been pushing all the wrong buttons lately with the nurses. I don't think they would appreciate us crowding into that room with Timothy asleep."

"Sure, Duck," said Gibbs.

"She will be happy that you are here," said the M.E. as he walked back to the room.

Once alone in the almost quiet hallway, Gibbs and Ziva heard someone inquiring about a Timothy McGee at the nurse's station. They turned around just as the man looked over at them. He started walking over and extended his hand out to them.

"You must be Agent Gibbs," he said. "I'm John McGee, Timothy's father."

Gibbs looked the man dead in the eye as he returned the firm hand shake. Ziva smiled, wondering just how this was going to turn out.

* * *

><p><strong>The next chpater will be what we've all been waiting for! The Admiral vs. Team Gibbs. <strong>

**I know, not as good as the Partiots vs Giants rematch in the Super Bowl, but hey! This'll cover us til football starts again.**

**Just warning you ahead of time, the next chpater might not come til Friday or Saturday. You see, there's this movie coming out at midninght tonight...THE HUNGER GAMES! And I'm going to go see it despite the fact that it's a school night. I know, I know but at least I don't drink on school nights like some people we know...(DiNozzo). Anywho, with that event, I might not finish the next chapter tomorrow since I'll be catching up on sleep and school. But I promise to have it up as soon as I can. **

**Thanks for the support. Constructive criticism is welcomed and appreciated. **


	6. Chapter 6

**I had some trouble writing this chapter and that's why I got it in a day later than I said I would. Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Six: See for Yourself<strong>

John McGee was not intimidated by Leroy Jethro Gibbs. Gibbs saw this. He didn't mind. He had met people who weren't intimidated by him: at first at least. And so far, he had never met a relative of any of his agents' who was intimidated by him. Well, at least it was proven that there was some ounce of courage in the genetic code; even if he thought that his agents were still braver than any of their family members. And not for any physical reason: any fool could run around with a gun. But more importantly because of the decisions they had made in their lives.

So, it was safe to say that Gibbs didn't give a rat's ass that the man he was shaking hands with was a retired Admiral. He only cared that this was Tim's father, and was trying to see how this was going to affect Tim.

_At least he came to the hospital to check on his son,_ thought Gibbs. That was more than what could be said for Tony and Ziva's fathers.

Gibbs had to remind himself that Tim had been talking about mending his relationship with his father. He had talked to his parents on numerous occasions since the case involving Penny. Gibbs was hoping that the relationship really was on the mend. He did admit to himself that he was a little eager to meet the McGee family. He had been looking forward to the lunch at the McGee household. If there was any specific reason to have been looking forward to it, it was because he wanted to aid in Tim getting closer to his family if he could. If that mean having a nice team and family dinner, then so be it. He could be a nice man when the time arose.

Right now, though, in the hospital hallway, with two agents injured and a long day out in the field, Gibbs' nerves were frayed and playing nice wasn't a priority. He just wanted to know if the Admiral was there to actually care for his son or not.

"Admiral," greeted Gibbs as they broke off the handshake. "Who called you?"

"A Ms. Sciuto," answered John, drawing the name out to make sure he was saying it correctly.

"Abby Sciuto," perked up Ziva from beside Gibbs. "She is our forensic scientist. She is a very good friend of Tim's and the team, of course." She held out her hand. "Special Agent Ziva David."

He shook her hand firmly, yet with a gentlemen's touch. "Of course. I should've known. Timothy has told us all about his team."

"Really," asked Gibbs. "Yeah. He's told us a few things about yourself as well."

John blinked at that and straightened his back some to rear himself to his full height. This was undoubtedly where Tim had inherited his height. Still, Gibbs wasn't that much shorter and definitely not intimidated.

"I guess with this lunch we keep trying to plan," started the Admiral. "Family must come up a few times."

"A few," agreed Gibbs.

The pair went quiet and Ziva tried to be enthusiastic as she broke the silence. "Well, Mr. McGee, we were just waiting to go see Tim. Did Abby tell you what happened?"

"Yes," replied the retired Admiral, taking his gaze away from Gibbs and looking back at her. "I'm glad to hear that everything went all right."

"Where is Mrs. McGee," asked Ziva.

"She was on her way to visiting Sarah in Baltimore after Tim called us to cancel," he said. "Once I knew everything was okay here, I told her to stay there tonight and just come down tomorrow. I didn't want her driving if she was upset."

"Smart," said Gibbs.

"You really don't say a lot," remarked John. "I thought Tim was just exaggerating about that. He exaggerates a lot."

Ziva frowned. "McGee? I mean, Tim? He exaggerates?"

"Everyone exaggerates," said John.

"I do not think Tim does," replied Ziva. "Tony, yes. Tim, no."

"I guess you just don't know him as well as you think you do," said John, with a thin smile.

Ziva's eyes narrowed with offense, but Gibbs cut her off. "Is that what you think, Mr. McGee? Because I think that the first time you spoke to your son in seven years was just a couple of months ago and that you don't really know him as well as you think you do. And I don't think you even knew him that well even when you _were_ talking."

John went stony faced. "Agent Gibbs, this is my son and—".

"All I want to know," Gibbs interrupted. "Is if you're here to care about your son and support him until he gets better and can return to his job, or if you're here to make a point."

That left John speechless. Ziva was still glaring daggers at him, and standing closely at Gibbs' side, leaving no question as to whose side she was on. Her welcoming mood had not been an act, but after John's remarks, this wasn't acting either.

The awkward silence that permeated through the hospital corridor was broken by Ducky and Abby exiting Tim's room. Ducky was silently closing the door behind him, indicating that Tim and Tony were still asleep inside.

Abby let out an excited gasp. "Oh! Mr. McGee! I'm so glad you're here!" She was practically skipping over to them, oblivious to the icy mood. "I'm Abby by the way. I was the one who called you. Timmy is asleep, but the nurse's said he might wake up soon. Of course, you could still go in there and sit down if you want." She turned her attention to Gibbs and threw her arms around him. "I missed you Gibbs! And you too, Ziva!" She quickly hugged the Israeli who acknowledged her with a one-armed hug around the waist. Finally, Abby sensed there was something amiss. "Ummm, guys?"

Ducky wandered over. He looked up at John and extended his hand to the retired Admiral. "Dr. Donald Mallard at your service. I am the head Medical Examiner at NCIS and also the resident translator for any medical situations that unfortunately arise. Your son is doing just fine and is in good hands. You have nothing to worry about."

John shook Ducky's hand with a stoic demeanor. "Yes, thank you. I'll just be going to see him now."

He nodded to Abby and ignored Gibbs and Ziva as he quickly walked past them and over to Tim's room. He opened the door slightly and then looked back at them. "There's someone else here in the room."

"Oh, that's just Tony," Abby replied in a stage whisper. "Don't mind him. He's supposed to be sleeping."

"Actually," said Ducky. "In an hour, would you mind waking him up and asking him a few questions like what is his name? and where he is? If he gives you answers that are completely wrong and very witty, then he is doing just fine. He got a concussion and he needs to be woken up every now and then." He gave John a sharp nod and encouraging smile.

John just nodded back his affirmation and went inside the hospital room.

Gibbs looked down at Ducky curiously. Ducky sighed.

"I picked up on your rather obtuse mood towards the man," replied Ducky. He let a wry smile come over his features. "Why not throw a drugged and unabashed Tony DiNozzo at him if he wants to really find out what this team is all about?"

Gibbs smiled back and Ziva snorted as she barked out a laugh.

Abby frowned. "You don't like Tim's dad, Gibbs?"

"I just want to make sure he's here for the right reasons, Abby," said Gibbs.

"Oh," sad Abby. "I guess that makes sense." She looked around. "Are you going to stay here?"

"Yeah, for now," said Gibbs. "Ziver, you should go home. Get some rest. Take tomorrow off. The paperwork can wait till Monday."

Ziva nodded. "Well, I will just go home and get a shower but I will come back tonight. Tony might wake up and need a ride home later."

Everyone knew that was a lame excuse to come back, but no one bothered pointing that out. Ziva knew it too. But they all knew that they just wanted to be there for their wounded.

"I'll come with you," said Abby. "Could you drop me off at home?"

"Of course," said Ziva.

Gibbs watched them walk off together and then turned back to Ducky. "What's on your mind, Duck?"

"Are you going to be civil with our retired Admiral," asked Ducky bluntly.

"Only if he treats Tim right," said Gibbs. He looked down at Ducky. "It has to be more than flesh and blood, Duck. Because _this team_ is more than flesh and blood."

Ducky gave a curt nod. "I couldn't have said it better myself, Jethro."

()()()()()()()

John slowly shut the door behind him, trying to make as little noise as possible. His eyes quickly latched onto the sight of his son asleep in the hospital bed, and they never left him. He kept his eyes on Tim's face. He couldn't get over how young he looked. He had never seen his son so still and quiet; not since he was a little kid at least. That was when he had taken the time to go watch his children sleep at night, basking in the thought of being a father and loving his kids.

John dropped into the chair beside the bed wearily, putting his hands in his face.

"Shit, what have I done?"

When had he abandoned his son? Sure, he had never left the kid on the side of street. But he had abandoned him. He was beginning to understand Gibbs' words from earlier. He had abandoned his son by not supporting him. Maybe that wouldn't have stopped what happened today. But, if something had happened to take his son away from him…well, he would never have had the peace of knowing he had always been there for him.

The harsh words he had said to his son earlier that morning were now punching holes in his heart. He could only imagine what they had done to Tim. Tim had taken the first step in mending their relationship, and all John had done was push him away in the end. He was being selfish towards everyone in his family. Just because he was too proud.

He painfully looked back to his son. He wondered if he should even be allowed to sit here next to him, taking up the space someone who had cared far longer should be occupying. He started to get up to leave the room and tell Gibbs that he should be the one to sit there. He reached out and put his hand over Tim's. His breath caught in his throat, though, when Tim weakly grasped it.

John watched as Tim's face scrunched up some and the monitor's beeping escalated just a little bit. Tim cracked his eyes open and blearily blinked a few times before staring up at the ceiling.

John remained still as Tim's hand held on tighter and he turned his head to his father.

"Dad?" His voice was thick with sleep.

John mentally winced as Tim's grasp slackened. He plastered on a weak smile. "Yeah, Timothy, it's me."

Tim withdrew his hand to rub his eyes. "What are you doing here?"

"Your friend Abby called me," he replied. "Told me what happened. I came by to see you. Just got in a few minutes ago."

Tim just stared and gave a slow nod. "Where's Mom?"

"She went to go visit Sarah in Baltimore," replied John, looking away. "She'll come by tomorrow she said."

Tim nodded again and tried to sit up. The pain in his abdomen, though, kept him down. When he grimaced, and let out a hiss, John jumped up to hover over his son. Tim relaxed into his pillows. "Bad idea," he murmured. He eyed his father's hand on his shoulder. "Gee, Dad, didn't know you cared."

Tim shot his father a glare, but felt guilty when he saw the hurt in his father's eyes. John masked it quickly, but Tim had seen it. He let out a sigh.

"Dad, I'm sorry—".

"No," said John curtly. "I am. What I said earlier…I…I know an apology can't take away. And I'm tired of saying 'sorry' and then just going back on it." He stepped away from the bed. "I'll let you rest, Timothy."

He made to go to the door when Tim called to him. "Dad. Please, just sit. You don't have to say anything. Just being here is enough."

John carefully sat down. He gestured to the hall. "There are some people here who also want to see you. Your team?"

Tim smiled. "Sure. But you're my dad. And we don't see each other very often. I see my team every day. They'll understand."

"They will," asked John.

"Yes," answered Tim. "Gibbs has always told us it's family first."

John swallowed. "Yeah, well, Tim, you were the one who said these folks were family."

Tim nodded. "I did. But that doesn't mean you're not."

"Well, certainly not as good as family as you've got here," remarked John. He gestured over to Tony's sleeping form. "Who's that guy anyway?"

"Tony DiNozzo," replied Tim. He smiled at the sight of Tony sleeping on top of the sheets of the other bed, fully clothed, down to the boots on his feet. "He saved my life."

"I hear you saved his life too," said John inquiringly.

Tim sighed, a worried look coming over his face. "Yeah. Something like that. I don't know. I just did what I had to do. And that's what Tony did." He looked back at his father, his features hardened. "We could never leave each other behind. It's just who we are. Don't you get that Dad? This is who I am. We might not be sailors. But we still risk our lives for our country and for each other. You said you knew what it was like to have people around you that you would do anything for. Well, this is it. And you need to respect that Dad. I know you wanted me to join the Navy, but that's just not who I am. I found my niche. Here. On this team. And I wouldn't trade that for anything."

John watched his son carefully, and finally bowed his head. "Thanks, for that Timothy."

"Thanks," asked Tim. "Why are you thanking me?"

"For telling it straight to my face," said John. "You shouldn't have to. But I'm glad you did. Because I _do_ understand. And I promise not to forget that."

Tim smiled. "Well, you've never broken a promise. That's for sure."

John snorted. "Ya know. I used to be afraid of promising stuff to people. I was afraid that I would break it. But this…this promise I'm happy to fulfill."

"Dad," said Tim sincerely. "I know you. You wouldn't make a promise that you couldn't keep."

They both looked over at Tony when the man readjusted himself in his sleep. Tim looked back at his father with a splitting grin.

"You're lucky he's asleep," said Tim. "I think they gave him painkillers."

* * *

><p><strong>Hope I didn't build up the face off between Gibbs and the Admiral too much and then let y'all down. For those who wanted a DiNozzo-Admiral showdown, I just wasn't feeling it for this chapter. I thought there was enough content in there already. But there will be a chat later on.<strong>

**Constructive criticism is welcomed and reviews appreciated.**


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